The reward of one's duty is the power to fulfill another.
In high vengeance there is noble scorn.
Habit is the beneficent harness of routine which enables silly men to live respectfully and unhappy men to live calmly
There is a great deal of unmapped country within us which would have to be taken into account in an explanation of our gusts and storms.
No man can be wise on an empty stomach.
Play not with paradoxes. That caustic which you handle in order to scorch others may happen to sear your own fingers and make them dead to the quality of things.
There is a mercy which is weakness, and even treason against the common good.
Hell is oneself; Hell is alone, the other figures in it merely projections. There is nothing to escape from and nothing to escape to. One is always alone.
Quarrel? Nonsense; we have not quarreled. If one is not to get into a rage sometimes, what is the good of being friends?
Coarse kindness is at least better than coarse anger; and in all private quarrels the duller nature is triumphant by reason of its dullness.
The reward of one duty is the power to fulfill another.
It is possible to have a strong self-love without any self-satisfaction, rather with a self-discontent which is the more intense because one's own little core of egoistic sensibility is a supreme care.
Certainly, the mistakes that we male and female mortals make when we have our own way might fairly raise some wonder that we're so fond of it.
It is in these acts called trivialities that the seeds of joy are forever wasted, until men and women look round with haggard faces at the devastation their own waste has made, and say, the earth bears no harvest of sweetness calling their denial knowledge.
I at least have so much to do in unraveling certain human lots, and seeing how they were woven and interwoven, that all the light I can command must be concentrated on this particular web, and not dispersed over that tempting range of relevancies called the universe.